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Post by Septon Martyn on Apr 6, 2015 15:24:15 GMT -5
---------------------------- Martyn looked out from the steps of the Golden Sept of Lannisport. From there he could see the small cogs, galleys, and fishing boats enter and exit the habour. Pausing to take in a deep breath of salty air he turned and looked at his surroundings. As a nobleman, however small his house and birth might be, he could plausibly rely on the city guard if things turned ugly. He clenched his fist in the palm of his hand, the signet ring with the Westerling sigil leaving small marks on the flesh. There, on the side door near the entrance to the sept hung the 77 points he had hung on the doors of the Lannisport manor the day before. It's almost time to begin.
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Post by Septon Martyn on Apr 6, 2015 16:15:14 GMT -5
"The Father reached his hand into the heavens and pulled down seven stars and one by one he set them on the brow of Hugor of the Hill to make a glowing crown. The Maid brought him forth a girl as supple as a willow with eyes like deep blue pools and Hugor declared that he would have her for his bride. So the Mother made her fertile, and the Crone foretold that she would bear the king four-and-forty mighty sons. The Warrior gave strength to their arms, whilst the Smith wrought for each a suit of iron plate," Martyn raised his voice above the crowd, raising his right hand in a point while the other held open a copy of the Seven-Pointed Star for effect.
"And I ask you good folk of Lannisport and Hills of these Westerlands wherein do we hear of septas fat from offerings, and septons claiming to not only speak for the gods, but to be their earthly avatar here on earth? We have, in our time, history after history of broken and fallible men bring war and ruin down on us. Whose sons will be levied into war, a spear put in their hands all because the High Septon in Oldtown sees fit to acknowledge the treason committed by Lord Tyrell? What has our Lord Rose done to defend our most holy Faith than to betray the last commander of our most faithful knights and warriors of the Faith Militant? Would not an avatar of the Seven on high see through such deceit and treachery? Would he not see that in doing so he not only validates treason, but takes your own sons, brothers, and husbands from their women, children, work and labour because our His Grace King Brynden must respond?"
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Post by Amelia Royce on Apr 6, 2015 19:41:04 GMT -5
"Aye!" A man called out. He'd been going to the docks to find some fish to buy but had stopped when he heard the man preach. "Aye aye!"
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Post by Ser Pounce on Apr 6, 2015 19:45:16 GMT -5
A crowd gathered in front of Martyn, some who were able to read his points informed their friends who weren't as educated about what the man would talk about. Another part of the crowd was there because they were visiting the sept anyway and were willing to listen to his loud speech. Some were concerned where they stood in the eyes of the Faith considering the High Septon had saw fit to bestow Lord Tyrell as the Watcher of the Faith. Considering the West and the Reach were at war now, what should they do as followers? Cast their lot in with the Lannister King and fight against the Faith's chosen King? It was all very unnerving for many and so here they stood seeking some new light to be shed on their inner struggles.
"What should we do?" A voice called out, with several more joining the cry.
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Post by Septon Martyn on Apr 6, 2015 19:55:16 GMT -5
"You there!" cried Martyn ignoring the numerous questions coming from the crowd. Answer one, answer two, but don't get bogged down by every worry or each concern. "What is your profession?" Pointing at the first man who raised his voice in assent.
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Post by Amelia Royce on Apr 6, 2015 19:56:29 GMT -5
"M-me!?" The man asked, pointing at himself. "I'm a tailor!"
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Post by Septon Martyn on Apr 6, 2015 20:05:35 GMT -5
"A tailor is a smith by another name, and profession blessed by the gods. May the Seven bless you." Martyn gestured the man forward. "Here we have a man whose industriousness, thrift, and skill as a tailor was bestowed upon him as a blessing from the gods. I ask you good tailor, did any septon lay his hands on you to give you your gifts? Your skill with needle and cloth? Were your tools anointed with the holy oils? Or did you gain this instruction from your Father, uncle or family before you when you apprenticed?"
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Post by Amelia Royce on Apr 6, 2015 20:13:16 GMT -5
The man strode forward, slightly confused, but happy to be spoken to in person. "I... well no! I learned my trade through years of work. My father was a tailor and he taught me. I learned from him and from working!"
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Post by Septon Martyn on Apr 6, 2015 20:27:55 GMT -5
Martyn took the steps downward one by one until he reached the man. Putting his hand on his shoulder he spun him around to face the crowd, right arm around the man's shoulder, with his left still clutching the Holy Book. "And his father before him, and his father before him I expect. A family line blessed by the Smith to make and produce the clothes you and I wear," he said motioning to no one in particular in the crowd before him, "Seven blessings on you brother."
"You see, it is the nature of the Seven to ordain men and their lines to duties and tasks given to them by nor septon, nor blessed by any set of oils. Instead, they choose from among mortal men someone capable of a task, and set both him and his family to that task for ages to come. If there was a Hugo of the Hills, and there most assuredly was, he was chosen directly by the Seven to champion his people and our Faith. So it was with him, and so it was with his children. There must have been, at that blessed time, a man among those followers of Hugo, chosen by the Smith to produce clothes as sturdy as those produced by our good brother here." Doubtful.
"There in Casterly Rock is a man whose family ages ago was chosen by the Father to perform the jobs and duties of Lords and Kings, and to pass those skills down through their family, as a tailor, or a fishmonger, a septon, or dare I say...a whore...will pass those things on to their children. It is only natural and obvious, is it not?"
He turned to those who had raised questions earlier. "There are those among you who ask what should we do, given war against the so-called Defender of Faith." He raised his hand to them. "I ask you now, what is King Brynden to do when his realm is divided, and his people's peace threatened? What is a King chosen by the gods to do? What comes naturally, divinely, and through learned skill?"
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Post by Ser Pounce on Apr 6, 2015 20:34:50 GMT -5
"We need a new High Septon!" An anonymous voice cried out. "No! The king should be septon! The King should lead us!" Another roared out.
There was some confusion and shouting as the crowd tried to answer Martyn's open ended question.
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Post by Septon Martyn on Apr 6, 2015 20:54:00 GMT -5
"Brothers and Sisters, tailors, whores and fishmongers of Lannisport! Guards and soldiers of the Lannisters, look on me!" Martyn cried out above the confusion.
"I am but a man. I have need of sleep, I eat and then shit, I walk these streets and my eyes behold thei same as you. Sometimes...sometimes I wonder if the gods here my prayers even..." He paused here to let that sink in. "Yes, even those instructed in the Faith doubt, worry, eat and shit. I have heard the High Septon? I have sung his hymns and listened to his teachings. He is a man instructed well in the Faith. Yet he is the same. He doubts, worries, eats and shits. The gods did not ask men to be perfect, but only for them to do their duties."
"Yes, we could choose a new High Septon. There have been better, and there have been worse. Yet all were men, and all of them died, as must we all. Can such a man or mortal flesh, with mortal desires truly be the living representative of the gods among us?" A little confusion to stir up their thoughts, but not too much to lose them. "I say nay!" Answering the question for them. "I tell you now that any man who claims to represent the gods in mortal flesh blasphemes their names. A man may be chosen of them, as was Hugo of the Hills, but not speak for them."
"King Brynden answers war as his nature wills, as his chosen station demands. But it is thrust upon him by a High Septon claiming to be the living gods on earth, while taking time to eat, shit, sleep and enrich himself in between sermons." Lest any doubt his piety he continued, "Do not think I don't love His Holiness. But when he treads into matters best done by Kings you suffer, and your children are called to war."
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Post by Queen Joanna Lannister on Apr 7, 2015 11:51:44 GMT -5
Roland stood to the side, eyeing the preaching septon with intent. Having never been overly pious himself, he saw in this a great opportunity for the Lannisters to regain their lands. Studying the crowd and their reaction, he waited for Martyn to finish so he could approach him.
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Post by Septon Martyn on Apr 7, 2015 12:14:32 GMT -5
"You ask what we do? I admit that I am at a loss...perhaps septons wiser than I can tell you. Go to them, and ask them where their loyalties lie. With the King, chosen by the Seven as good Hugo of the Hills was? Or with a mortal High Septon who would call your sons to war and fracture our peace with pettiness and politics. Come, on next market day one week from now and we shall have more to discuss." He went through the crowd shaking hands, accepting a drink of ale from a passerby, and answering a few questions as he waited for the crowd to disperse.
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Post by Queen Joanna Lannister on Apr 7, 2015 12:23:25 GMT -5
Once the crowd had mostly dispersed, Roland made his way through the few still remaining. "You speak well, Septon Martyn," he said, offering the man a smile and extending his hand. "Roland Brax," he greeted, just in case the silver unicorn crest on his cloak was not indication enough. He'd of course heard of the disgraced Westerling septon before, but was open-minded enough not to consider it the man's defining quality. "May I offer to buy you a glass of wine?"
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Post by Septon Martyn on Apr 7, 2015 13:16:30 GMT -5
"My name proceeds me, ser" Martyn answered with his hand, "was it the dwarf and the Lyseni whore, or the bulletin board I made of your Lord's manor?" He turned and bade farewell to the last of the crowd. "Only if it's not poisoned, though I don't expect those measures from the Faith just yet, that's more the Citadel's style." He smiled, "lead the way."
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